Post by kevna on Mar 9, 2024 18:05:57 GMT -5
Tak'ril - Bronze Agureyth
“Morn’n Fisher Weadon.” Tak’ril nodded to the older man, who upon his approach had been talking to his eldest daughter in quiet hushed tones. They had stopped when they had seen him, and Weadon had placed on of his big friendly smiles on his face. “Good Morn, Tak. It’s a good morn indeed. Fish are’a bitin.”
“Really? Great, just whatta like to hear.” His manner of speech always grew more relaxed when he hit the docks, surrounded by other fishermen. He stopped before them, and his eyes settled on Weadon’s daughter, “Morn’n, miss Wimmai.” He tried not to look uneasy, but it was hard not to be when she looked at him with that secretive smile.
“Late in the mornin for fishing, in’nt it?” She asked, moving a basket onto her hip.
“Now, Wimmai-“ Her father turned on her, ready to come to Tak’ril’s defense, but Tak raised a hand. “It’s okay, Fisher Weadon. It’s true, aint it? Agureyth had a patch a’skin needin tendin too, and him bein so big, it takes a bit now.”
“Ah, perfect explanation.” Fisher Weadon said, beaming, and looking at Wimmai, who’s smile had widened. “Indeed. I do miss when Agureyth would come down with ya. Gess he’s too big nowa’days.”
Tak’ril nodded at her. He stood silently, unsure, as they both seemed to take his measure. Was he supposed to say something more? Instead he fished out his marks, and offered the agreed upon amount to Weadon. “Ah, yes. Much thanks, but ah, actually, I was thinkin mayhap we just let ya take the boat out and fish and whatever you get, ya give to me?”
Tak’ril shook his head, and offered the marks again as he said, “Now we both know that’s not fair, ‘specially if I don’t catch nothin.”
“Yes, but you always do seem to bring in a sizable catch.” Wimmai said softly, tilting her head. He scratched his head, unsure how to go about answering that. Her eyes were a soft dark brown that seemed to see more then he wished. So of course, he ended up shifting uncomfortably, and another awkward silence came upon them. It took Tak a moment to realize it was obviously his turn to answer.
“Er.” He muttered, rubbing his forehead. Weadon seemed to take pity on him. Or not. “How beit this, ya take Wimmai with ya, and whatevah ya both catch, you give ta me? Two is betta then one.”
Wimmai gave her father a sharp look, then turned those dark eyes on him once more. “Seems fair, but will ya have a woman on yur boat?” The words were almost accusatory, and Tak had to work not to shift under her eyes again. There was a flair of temper burning in his depths. It wasn’t traditional to take a woman on a fishing boat, but he didn’t have anything against women. He had accepted them as dragonriders, hadn’t he?
“I don’t hav’a problem with it.” His tone was only slightly defensive, and Wimmai’s eyes narrowed further at him, but the small, secretive smile seemed to be forming on her lips again. Weadon’s smile was as open as the sea and he offered his hand to Tak’ril to shake. “Thatsa bargain then. Good fishin.” Weadon saluted, and patting his large protruding stomach and then hoisting his burden, he rambled away, calling greetings to other men as he passed. Tak'ril rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he had ended up agreeing to tak Wimmai on his solitary outing. Wimmai continued to watch him, and he moved past her, forcing her to turn, and started untying the small rowboat. She joined him wordlessly, and then without too much more effort, he and Wimmai had cast off. He rowed, and she had her back to him, peering out with intentness.
There was blessed quiet for a time, just him rowing, and her searching. He trusted her eye when she pointed out a spot that looked promising. He adjusted their direction, and within another half candle’s mark made it to the spot. There were birds in the sky, and the water seemed to stir. He cast a net off one side of the boat, Wimmai was helpful in untying the knots that held the neatly rolled net in it’s form. She was deft and nimble, as well as proficient. Her father had taught her well.
“You’re a dragonrider. Why continue coming out upon the waters?” Her voice was gentle, pitched to avoid scaring the fish from them. He looked at Wimmai from the corner of his eye, one hand on the net, the other on the rod he had cast on the other side of the boat. Wimmai had her own rod cast, her eyes continued to look out at the blue of the water, completely at ease.
“It’s part o’ me, same as dragonridin.” He said simply, his voice pitched low as hers had been, giving one of his half shrugs. “Sounds like it be just whatcha hav’always dun.” She said, giving him a searching look. Tak’ril swallowed irritation, that fiery temper that had quenched with the rowing re-igniting.
“I don’t ‘cept ya to understand.” He muttered, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. Her small, secretive smile was back, making him feel like she understood a lot more then he did. He ground his teeth. “No man thinks a woman can understand.” She said it softly, but there was a humor in it, an edge, that had him looking at her. That moment a fish bit upon her line, and she reeled it in with ease. It was a little fella, a shimmer of blues upon it’s scales. She unhooked it and tossed it into the bucket, before rebaiting her rod, and casting it again into the ocean.
“Mayhap you come out’ere to find somethin.”
“Mayhap it be peace in quiet.” He snapped, feeling sorry as soon as he said it. His mama had taught him better manners, but his anger had bested him.
“Mayhap.” She said, her grin larger as she met his eyes, amused at his tone. That cured his guilt. “Are ya trying to make me angry?” He asked lowly, grinding his teeth, and her smile grew again, showing off teeth. “Mayhap.” She said again, looking back out to the ocean. He thought about that as she let the silence grow. She was trying to make him angry? Why? He swore in his mind, bringing Agureyth’s attention on him.
What would your egg layer say? Aggy teased, referring to his mother, and Tak’ril narrowed his eyes. We aren’t laid in eggs, Aggy. He felt his dragon’s brief confusion before his bronze seemed to take more notice of Tak’ril’s surroundings. Fishing makes you happy. There was a note of question in his confused tone, and Tak’ril worked not to grind his teeth. It does. This woman does not. Amusement lit Agureyth’s touch in his mind. At some point, you must learn to speak with them, may as well be while you do what you love.
But I’d really rather not. His dragon snorted in his head, but he was enjoying the heat of the sun on him, and weariness still dragged at him. We do not always get to choose when we learn. His dragon said before giving Tak’ril’s mind a loving nudge before retreating into a nap. Great. Just great. His dragon had succeeded in giving some of his temper back. He studied the woman who had irked him, trying to understand her mind and failing. She had long black hair, tied back in a thick braid. Black wavy hair had escaped her braid, framing her angular face, softening it somewhat. Her nose was large, but it fit her face in a powerful way, and was a good accent for her lips, which curved often. Her skin was darker than his overly tanned skin, more of an olive color, not gifted by the sun, but natural. It was darker than Weadon’s skin tone, so probably came from her mother’s side. And she was tall. Not as tall as he, but tall enough that he didn’t have to bow his head too far in order to meet her dark brown eyes. He blinked, realizing that their eyes were indeed meeting, and she had caught him staring.
He felt his face warm, and almost in self-defense of his actions, he sought to distract her. “Why do you want to make me angry?” He asked it without bite, though his forehead was still creased with his unhappiness. Or embarrassment.
“Because I want’d ta see if I coul’, you noramlly so calm and steady.” She said it so simply, he could only blink, completely baffled. He scratched his head, wanting so badly to rub his face. “And I can.” She said it a moment later with a triumphant smile that made him laugh. A soft, belly laugh. Her face seemed to brighten more at the sound, but she looked out at the ocean, as if to hide the reaction. “You’re… infuriating.” He said it, a little breathless, and she gave him an impish grin. “Thas what my mama says too.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder, as if accepting some reward, and he chuckled again.
The next few hours were of a similar vein. She baited him as she baited fish, and he sought not to be caught in her trap again. He didn’t always succeed, he snapped at her quite a few times, but it didn’t seem to stop the reeling in of fish. It didn’t seem to stop her from making him laugh in turn, until he felt so topsy turvy, he wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t a fish caught in her net. Her triumph seemed to brighten her features, making her more beautiful, if also more infuriating. They moved closer inland, him rowing, her watching the waters.
Enough time passed, that eventually Agureyth grew impatient, and joined them. He swam beside them. They rowed along the north coastline, until Agureyth chose one of the shallow bays. Tak’ril followed him in, and Agureyth had fun splashing them from the waters. They gave up on fishing with the dragon along for the ride. “Would ya like t’go back?” He had offered, and she had given him a sly smile, “Not jus yet.” She had murmured, shaking her head and watching the dragon dive into the oceans. Now they sat lolling in the ocean. Aggy had all sorts of questions for Wimmai, and Tak’ril dutifully asked them for his bonded.
Where had she been born? Igen Weyr, apparently.
Why had they moved here? Weadon had seen opportunity here.
How old was she? Now Tak’ril had not been interested in asking Wimmai the question. Taselin had always said it wasn’t polite to ask, so Aggy had taken it upon himself to ask.
Mine says it’s not polite to ask. But I don’t understand. It seems like a normal question. He had said it so innocently, and Tak’ril had turned red. But Wimmai had merely laughed. “It don’t matter ta me.” She said, waving off apologies Tak’ril tried to give her. “If ya wanna know, ya can ask me yurself Tak.” Wimmai winked at him, she was teasing… right? “I’m one and twenty turns last month.” She was a little older then himself, and he said it without much thought, which later mortified him. “You don’t act like it.”
Wimmai threw her head back and laughed, it was a deeper tone then most woman had, and it brought him pleasure to hear it. Pleasure, knowing he had caused that laugh. “What, ya think I seem oldeh?” She asked, raising an eyebrow when her laughter had subsided. That made him laugh, and Agureyth grumbled with pleasure at the happiness his rider was experiencing, even if he didn’t understand exactly why what they spoke of was funny. I do think you act older than your turns. Aggy offered Wimmai, and that set both Tak’ril and Wimmai off again. The spring weather was pleasurable, the sun was warm, even if the gentle breeze still had the barest hint of a bite of winter in it. Wimmai was standing up and stretching, straightening her skirts, when Aggy’s tail accidentally hit the boat as he sought to dive under water. She lost her balance, and with a small ‘eep’ of surprise went over the boat.
“Shards.” Tak’ril swore, leaping up and diving into the water without thought. Wimmai had already resurfaced, but she was struggling when Tak’ril got to her. One arm wrapped around her waist, and the other, as well as his lags, moved to keep them above water. “You’re heavier then I expected.” He grunted without thought, not actually teasing, but it made Wimmai giggle brokenly between chattering teeth. “I-it’s the s-skirts, y-you wh-wherry-faced deadglow.” She seemed to get the deadglow out without much effort, and Tak’ril had the choice to feel deadglow, or to laugh. He chuckled, shaking his head at himself. “Why do y-you women w-wear those things anyway?” They were almost nose to nose, pressed tightly together. Her skirts were proving to be a problem as his legs started twisting in them. “You really are a gather-f-fool, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me-“ His voice had darkened, but his bonded saved the day, and possibly his temper, drawn to them by it’s build. Agureyth’s large face emerged next to them, tilted slightly in confusion. Why are you in the water, mine?
“Because you-“ the skirts tangled more thoroughly in his legs and they submerged for a moment before he kicked free of them and resurfaced them both. Wimmai was gasping with the effort, one of her arms around his neck, and the other working to help keep them afloat. “You caused Wimmai to fall with your tail, you silly creature!” His frustration kept him from chattering, and suddenly Agureyth’s back was under them, and they both gasped. Wimmai coughed a few times.
I’m sorry. I didn’t notice. I will be more careful. His beast was repentant, looking at the two sopping wet humans on his back. Wimmai chuckled, and shook her head. “I’ll be more careful too, Aggy. No 'arm.” Tak’ril noted his arm still tightly wrapped around the woman and started to loosen his hold. But Wimmai had other plans, for she scooted close again, pressing herself up against him tightly. “You be warmer then me.” She murmured, pressing a cold nose into his neck, and causing him to gasp. “Shards woman-“ Which set her laughing, rumbling against him. It is known that men are generally warmer than women. Tak’ril considered telling his bonded to shut up, but thought better of it. Or was distracted from it. The close contact did something to his body, and his arm tightened again until they were pressed so tightly together he could feel her heart beating. She looked at him, her eyes lit with amusement, and warmth. Her lips pressed into his, neither tentative, nor demanding. He deepened the kiss without thought, he seemed to lack thinking around her, rolling so she was sandwiched between him and his bonded.
He lost himself in her. She smelled of ocean and fish with an undertone of something sweet, her lips molded to his in inviting ways, heating him from the inside out. One of her hands worked it’s way under his shirt, feeling his side, and causing him to gasp at the icy contact. “By Faranth, woman.” He said breathlessly, removing her hand from his side and twining his fingers into her hand, trapping it. “You are freezing.” She laughed, just as breathless as him, her skin more flushed, showing through her olive skin. “Ya think?” She asked innocently, and used her other hand to torture his back. She was strong, and he had to wrestle her a little to get her icy hands off of him.
She was strong, but not as strong as he, and he used her skirts against her, trapping her lower body by pinning them and her legs down, restricting her movement. There were kisses exchanged with laughter, but Tak’ril did succeed in capturing both her hands in his, succeeding in pinning her down. “You are infuriating.” He muttered it with a triumphant gleam, causing her to rumble against him as she laughed again. She nipped his lip, which turned into another passionate kiss. At one point he released her hands to better pull her closer, and her icy hands moved into his hair, tangling there. He pulled himself away with real effort, his growing desire felt like a drug.
Her lids were half lidded; her smile sensual. He could feel Agureyth trying to give him as much privacy as possible, but it didn’t stop him from relating the possibility of more people joining on the beach of their cove. “Someone’s comin.” His voice rumbled it out, and her eyes widened at the information. She sat up with him, and they both noted the small group of three humans and two dragons joining in the water. “Shells.” She muttered unhappily, straightening her clothes. “Thanks for the warning Aggy.” He muttered, trying to swallow the desire she had ignited. “Could you float us closer to the boat, Agureyth?” She asked, shivering as wind stirred her loose, wet, black hair. She looked like a sea nymph, bedraggled, hair completely freed from her braid and hanging loosely down her back, her olive skin flushed. He swallowed, forcing himself to look away from her.
Of course.
It took a couple of tries, what with Agureyth accidentally getting to close and pushing the boat further away. But the fourth try was successful, and both Tak’ril and Wimmai made it into the boat, barely escaping capsizing it with expert maneuvers that looked a little foolish, and had Wimmai laughing at Tak’rils moves. He found a blanket under his seat, and they both ended up sitting side by side, wrapped in the rough wool blanket. Wimmai ended up using one of the oars, while Tak’ril used the other. They spun for a good moment, before Tak’ril adjusted to her somewhat shorter rows.
It felt distracting, having her pressed so closely to his side, sharing his heat underneath the blanket. She shared looks with him, her mischievous smile was back in place, as if she could sense just what she was doing to him and enjoyed it. They ended up bickering over what bait was best for catching Fingertail the last candlemark of the journey back to the docks. His hand tightening on his oar that it creaked at the pressure placed on it while he rumbled with his displeasure. He was frustrated while he tied up the boat and brought the heavy bucket of fish out of the boat. He was putting it down, straightening, when she caught him by surprise, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her full lips into his.
It reignited the heat, the hunger she had instilled in him in the small bay. His hands twisted into her thick hair. “Well, looks like ya had a good catch.” Weadon’s voice had Tak’ril pulling away quickly, embarrassed to be caught by her father. She didn’t look embarrassed, though her olive skin was flushed as well. “It was very successful.” Wimmai said it so formally, her smile bright as her face as she bent and pulled the bucket of fish into both her arms. She left Tak’ril’s side, paused to kiss her father’s cheek, and kept walking without a backward glance.
Tak’ril watched her, noting the way the skirts emphasized the way her hips moved, before realizing what he was doing. He rubbed his face. “Sir, I should ap-“ He started, but Weadon only chuckled a little awkwardly, putting up a hand. “It’s hardleh’ your fault, I can assure ya.” Weadon shook his head. “That girl be a handful. Fair warnin, Tak.” He shook his head with a chagrined look on his face, saluted Tak’ril again, and turned to follow his daughter, leaving Tak’ril rubbing the back of his neck, wondering just what he had gotten himself into. It didn’t stop the small smile that touched his lips as he continued to think of Wimmai and her spirited banter.
